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Home  >  Discarded  >  My Home

My Home

There are times when you really don't know what to say.

If a criticism points out a mistake I made then at least I am glad it has been pointed out. I correct it and from then on I can relax, knowing better now.

If someone simply has another opinion (especially if well argued), then that's the variety of life and at the very least there is room for debate.

But if something is dismissed because that reader was not able to make simple connections, links which should be obvious if only a bit of thought were applied, there is nothing one can do.

In addition, if such a person has been given the authority to judge the work of others and thereby prevent a perspective from seeing the light of day (and so being available to those who are able to understand) then their act of refusal goes beyond the personal. It has now become a matter of forcefully dumbing down the others.

The following article was written under the theme of "Home, sweet home". There are many interpretations of what 'home' means, and I chose one that relates to wider society which, after all, through its general nature gives sustenance to its members one way or another. It matters therefore how rich or otherwise a society is.

The remarks in capital letters are those of the reviewer. Is it really necessary to explain everything to the nth degree, and should it not be possible for a reasonably intelligent reader to hold a thought for a moment until the next sentence or two have passed her eye and then parse the whole? Some comments are downright ludicrous; for example "...that even after a thousand years [ONLY ONE?]...".

There is another possibility. The article is about celebrating achievement, excellence, beauty - and defending them. There is a tendency in the West to downplay those aspects, especially when it comes to ours. Other cultures have no such qualms. Could it be that this reviewer's mindset stalled at any hint about what makes our culture - any culture - great?

Years ago I wrote in my honours thesis, "A society is only as good as the sum total of its citizens"; it was one of the items explicitly criticised by the examiners at Griffith University*).

And yet the statement is true, regardless of what - in this case left-wing - ideologues are trying to tell us. The idea that everybody is the same and all it takes is a change of conditions is not only false, it has led to many calamitous events which cost us dearly. The current involvement in Afghanistan (this is September 2012) is one of them, where many lives have been lost and destroyed, billions of dollars wasted, and international terrorism is nurtured. See the relevant entries under Parallels.

Mindsets are much more than some esoteric descriptions in the abstract; they form the background to our actions and sometimes even decide whether we live or die.

 

My Home

Home is where you grow up. But home is also where one can grow up. CAN YOU EXPAND A BIT MORE ON THIS?

It is a place that nurtures and protects, a place that offers a welcome when no other will. It is worth looking after, and defending.

Not every environment is suitable; it depends who you are. There is a poignant story about a little girl who has a goldfish it/SHE loves with all her heart. One evening she places the goldfish next to her on the pillow. When the girl wakes up in the morning the goldfish is dead.

YOU NEED TO GIVE YOUR INTERPRETATION OF THIS STORY. WHY IS IT POIGNANT? WHAT DOES IT SAY ABOUT 'HOME'?

Many things make my home. They all do not need to occur in the same place at the same time; being available every now and then is enough. Just as a human life is not measured in hours and days, the ingredients for a home can come at intervals, as long as they exist. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'EXIST'?

What are those pieces? PERHAPS REPEAT 'INGREDIENTS' FOR CONTINUITY.

It can be people.

People who think and muse, who speak and write, who compose and sing, who design and build, who invent and improve, who move us ever onwards TO WHAT?. People who are made to fulfil the destiny of life: evolution.

It can be minds.

Minds that connect, that invent, that formulate and distil, and communicate all this to others. Minds that take your time and return it rich with meaning. Minds that use the entire world to roam and explore and still need room for more.

It can be ideas.

Ideas that captivate and shock, IDEAS that build and destroy, that mirror reality or exchange it for something else because they can. Ideas that move a nation, that guide history, that build new minds. Thoughts that capture an essence in their simplicity or are so intricate they are mistaken for infinity.

It can be language.

Language that stimulates, that challenges, that brings the exquisite taste of something new. A redefinition of elegance, of beauty, of a shape that speaks in familiar tones yet forms sentences that have never been spoken before. A language rich enough to build ever-new combinations and create an ambience, a context, which opens another window to life.

It can be music.

Music that engulfs, that draws you in and takes you along, MUSIC that creates array upon array of facets and connects them together and so builds a scintillating space. Music that knows when to be loud and knows when to be still and yet is a whole. NICE IDEA

It can be pictures.

Pictures that make you stop and look and suddenly you see. That invite, no compel, you to enter into a world so private and yet so open. A land that waits to be explored, sometimes in excruciating detail, sometimes at a sweep that leaves you with your feet in the air. Pictures where beauty and terror sit side by side. So abstract they are a door that needs force to be opened, but then confront you with a meaning from which you cannot turn back.

It can be architecture.

Architecture that defines its own existence, that soars and reaches ever onwards and then beckons you to follow. Structures that tell of history, that explain the present, and that point to the future. Buildings that comfort and cajole, that foster and cultivate and make us welcome. Spaces that have walls but no limits. NICE IMAGERY

It can be machines.

Machines that represent the laws of physics in perfect balance, [ARE MACHINES ALWAYS IN 'PERFECT BALANCE'?] that construct their own dynamics just as the intellect behind constructed them. Machines so simple they are ingenious or so complex they command silence. Machines that personify us. PERHAPS EXPAND ON THIS.

But above all, people.

People who master all this so wonderfully that even after a thousand years [ONLY ONE?] we still feel the glow of a civilisation. NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN BY THIS.

All those things need not be there at once. To enjoy each in its own moment is enough. And they are worth defending.

YOU NEED TO BRING YOUR THOUGHTS BACK TO THE IDEA OF 'HOME' TO ROUND OFF THE ARTICLE, BRING IT TO A CONCLUSION.

 

Here is the same piece, without those silly inclusions:

My Home

Home is where you grow up. But home is also where one can grow up.

It is a place that nurtures and protects, a place that offers a welcome when no other will. It is worth looking after, and defending.

Not every environment is suitable; it depends who you are. There is a poignant story about a little girl who has a goldfish it loves with all her heart. One evening she places the goldfish next to her on the pillow. When the girl wakes up in the morning the goldfish is dead.

Many things make my home. They all do not need to occur in the same place at the same time; being available every now and then is enough. Just as a human life is not measured in hours and days, the ingredients for a home can come at intervals, as long as they exist.

What are those pieces?

It can be people.

People who think and muse, who speak and write, who compose and sing, who design and build, who invent and improve, who move us ever onwards. People who are made to fulfil the destiny of life: evolution.

It can be minds.

Minds that connect, that invent, that formulate and distil, and communicate all this to others. Minds that take your time and return it rich with meaning. Minds that use the entire world to roam and explore and still need room for more.

It can be ideas.

Ideas that captivate and shock, that build and destroy, that mirror reality or exchange it for something else because they can. Ideas that move a nation, that guide history, that build new minds. Thoughts that capture an essence in their simplicity or are so intricate they are mistaken for infinity.

It can be language.

Language that stimulates, that challenges, that brings the exquisite taste of something new. A redefinition of elegance, of beauty, of a shape that speaks in familiar tones yet forms sentences that have never been spoken before. A language rich enough to build ever-new combinations and create an ambience, a context, which opens another window to life.

It can be music.

Music that engulfs, that draws you in and takes you along, that creates array upon array of facets and connects them together and so builds a scintillating space. Music that knows when to be loud and knows when to be still and yet is a whole.

It can be pictures.

Pictures that make you stop and look and suddenly you see. That invite, no compel, you to enter into a world so private and yet so open. A land that waits to be explored, sometimes in excruciating detail, sometimes at a sweep that leaves you with your feet in the air. Pictures where beauty and terror sit side by side. So abstract they are a door that needs force to be opened, but then confront you with a meaning from which you cannot turn back.

It can be architecture.

Architecture that defines its own existence, that soars and reaches ever onwards and then beckons you to follow. Structures that tell of history, that explain the present, and that point to the future. Buildings that comfort and cajole, that foster and cultivate and make us welcome. Spaces that have walls but no limits.

It can be machines.

Machines that represent the laws of physics in perfect balance, that construct their own dynamics just as the intellect behind constructed them. Machines so simple they are ingenious or so complex they command silence. Machines that personify us.

But above all, people.

People who master all this so wonderfully that even after a thousand years we still feel the glow of a civilisation.

All those things need not be there at once. To enjoy each in its own moment is enough. And they are worth defending.


*) Such intense focus is particularly remarkable when one considers that the sentence "A society is only as good as the sum total of its citizens" appears in the Appendix section on page 144 of a thesis containing 153 pages in total, most of which deal with a computer program.

 

August 2012


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